


The Other World

by icyowl97



Category: Coraline - Neil Gaiman, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-09 03:37:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1967502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icyowl97/pseuds/icyowl97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Carlos Santiago's parents drag him halfway across the country to a small town in the desert, he doesn't expect to find anything. But what he find is more than he ever would have guessed: He find a choice.<br/>He can choose between the world he's found in Night Vale, with the strange neighbors and the slightly creepy boy he befriends, or he can choose the other world, a perfect place where almost everything is better.<br/>But as he's going to find out, perfection isn't real. Perfection isn't even human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Carlos discovered the door a little while after they moved into the house. 

It was an old house- it had an attic under the roof and a cellar under the ground and an overgrown garden with scattered weeds and huge, towering cacti in them.

Carlos' family didn't own all of the house, of course. It was far to big for that. Instead, they owned part of it.

There were other people who lived in that old house.

Miss Josie lived in the flat below Carlos, the one on the ground floor. She was an small and wrinkled, and she lived alone with no company but a large number of aging Highland terriers who were all named Erika. Once upon a time, Miss Josie had run and sang in an opera, as Miss Josie had told him when they first met. 

"You see, Carmen," Miss Josie said, getting Carlos' name wrong, "there used to be an Opera house in this town, and people came from far and wide to see it. Oh, and don't let Erika eat the fruitcake, or he'll be up all night with his tummy."

"It's Carlos, not Carmen. Carlos." Carlos said, feeling his ponytail and wondering if he should cut it off.

In the flat above Carlos', under the roof, was a crazy old man with a big mustache. He told Carlos that he was growing invisible corn. He wouldn't let anyone see.

"One day, little Carmen, when it is ready, everyone in the world will taste the wonders of my invisible corn. You ask me why you cannot try it now. Is that what you asked me?"

"No," said Carlos quietly, "I asked you not to call me Carmen. It's Carlos."

"The reason you cannot try the invisible corn now," said the man upstairs, "is that the corn is not quite ripe, nor tall enough. Also, it is not quite yet invisible. The corn is supposed to be completely see through. But you can still see it, if you look from the corner of your eye. I am thinking I need better water." 

Carlos didn't really think that invisible corn was possible. He thought the old man was just making it up. 

They day after they moved in, Carlos went exploring.

He explored the garden. It wasn't quite a garden as he knew it, though, but it was quite big. At the very back, there was a tennis court, but no one in the house played tennis and the fence around it had holes and the net was gone. There was a rosebush, but it had wilted away long ago, leaving nothing but a tangled bush of thorns. There was a small sand pit, filled with sand and goat heads and dying grass. 

There was also a well. On the first day Carlos' family moved in, Miss Josie made a point of telling Carlos how dangerous the well was, and she warned him to keep well away from the well. So Carlos set off to explore for it, so that he knew where it was, to keep away from it properly. 

He found it on the third day, hidden in a tall, dry field, a low brick circle surrounded by taller grass. The well had been covered up by old boards, to stop anyone from falling in. There was a small knothole in one of the boards though, so Carlos spent the afternoon dropping pebbles through the hole and waiting, and counting, until he heard the plop as they hit the water below. Then he'd write the time down in his notebook, and drop another one. 

Carlos also explored for animals. He found a banded armadillo, and some snakeskin (but no snake), and a stick that looked just like a bug, and a bug that looked just like a stick.

There was also a haughty black cat, who sat on walls and rocks and watched him, but slipped away if he ever went over to play with it.

That was how he spent the first two weeks in the house- exploring the garden and the grounds. 

His mother made him come back inside for dinner and lunch. And Carlos had to be sure he dressed warm, because it was a cold winter for a desert: but go out he did, exploring and doing science, until the day it rained, when Carlos had to stay inside. 

"What should I do?" Carlos asked.

"Read a book," said his mother. "Watch a video. Play with your chemistry kit. Go and pester Miss Josie or the crazy old man upstairs."

"No," said Carlos. "I don't want to do any of those things. I want to explore this new ecosystem." 

"I don't really mind what you do," said Carlos' mother, "so long as you don't make a mess." 

Carlos went over to the window and watched the rain come down. It wasn't the rain you could go play in- it was the other kind, the kind that threw itself down with from the sky and splashed where it landed. It was rain that meant business, and right now that business was turning the garden into a muddy, wet soup.

Carlos had watched all the videos. He was out of chemicals for his chemistry set, and he'd read all of his books. 

He turned to the TV. He went from channel to channel to channel, but there was nothing on but men in suits talking about the stock market, and talk shows. 

Eventually, he found something: it was the last half of a show about something called protective coloration. He watched animals, and birds, and insects which disguised themselves as leaves or twigs or other animals to escape from from things that could hurt them. He enjoyed and took notes in his notebook, but it ended too soon and was followed by a program about a cake factory.

It was time to talk to his father. 

Carlos' father was home. Both his parents worked, doing things on the computer, which meant they were at home a lot of the time. Each had their own study. 

"Hello, Carlos." He said when Carlos came in without turning around. 

"Mmph." He said. "It's raining."

"Yup," said his father. "It's pouring out there."

"No," said Carlos, "it's just raining. Can I go outside?"

"What does your mother say?" 

"She says you're not going out in weather like that, Carlos Santiago." 

"Then, no."

"But I want to carry on exploring."

"Then explore the apartment," suggested his father. "Look- you have your notebook in your hand. Look for the hot water tank. Find everything blue. Count the number of doors and windows, and make a chart. Just leave me alone."

"I'm into science, not math." Carlos reminded his father. "Can I go into the drawing room?" The drawing room was where the Santiago family kept the expensive (and uncomfortable) furniture that Carlos' grandmother had left them when she died. Carlos wasn't allowed in there. Nobody went in there. It was only for the best. 

"If you don't make a mess. And don't touch anything." 

Carlos considered this, then took off to explore their new home.

He found the hot water tank (it was in a cupboard in the kitchen).

He counted everything blue (153).

He counted the windows and the doors (21 and 14, respectively). He didn't make the chart though.

Of the doors he found, 13 opened and closed. The other- the big, old oak door at the far corner of the drawing room- was lock. In fact, Carlos couldn't even tell which way it opened, which was a serious design flaw. One should always be able to tell which way a door opens simply by looking at it, if the designer has done their job correctly.

He said to his mother: "Where does that door go?" 

"Nowhere, dear."

"It has to go somewhere. Everything has a beginning and an end, and every door has another side." 

His mother shook her head. "Look," she told Carlos. 

She reached up and took down a string of keys from the top of the kitchen door frame. She sorted through them carefully and selected the biggest, oldest, and rustiest key. They went into the drawing room. She unlocked the door with the key. 

The door swung open. 

His mother was right. The door didn't go anywhere. It swung out, reveling a brick wall. 

"When this place was just one house," said Carlos' mother,"that door went somewhere. When they turned the houses into flats, they simply bricked it up. The other side is the empty flat on the other side of the house, the one that's still up for sale." 

She shut the door and put the keys back up on the kitchen door frame. 

"You didn't lock it." Carlos said.

His mother shrugged. "Why should I lock it? It doesn't go anywhere." 

Carlos didn't say anything.

It was nearly dark outside now, and the rain was still coming down, pattering against the windows and blurring the lines of cars outside. 

Carlos' father stopped working and made them all dinner. 

Carlos was disgusted. "Daddy," he said, "you've made a recipe again."

"It's leek and potato stew, with a tarragon garnish, and melted Gruyere cheese," he admitted.

Carlos sighed. Then he went to the freezer and got some microwavable fries and a mini microwavable pizza. 

"You know I don't like recipes." Carlos told his father, while his dinner went round and round, and the little red numbers on the microwave counted down to zero.

"If you tried it, maybe you'd like it," said his father, but Carlos shook his head.

That night, Carlos lay awake in his bed. The rain had stopped, and he was almost asleep when something went tatatatat. He sat up.

Something creaked.

Carlos got out of his bed and looked down the hall, but saw nothing strange. He even walked down the hall. From his parent's bedroom came a low snore- that was his father- and an occasional sleep mutter- that was his mother. 

Carlos wondered if the noise had just been a dream.

Something moved.

It was little more than a shadow, and it scuttled down the darkened hallway fast, like a little patch of the night. 

He hoped it wasn't a spider. Carlos didn't like spiders during the day, and finding one a night wouldn't be fun.

The black shape went into the drawing room and Carlos, for reason even he couldn't fathom, followed it. 

The room was dark: the only light came from the hallway, and Carlos, who was standing in the doorway, cast a huge and distorted shadow onto the drawing room's carpet, his white robe blocking out most of his shape. 

Carlos was wondering if he should turn on the light or not when he saw the thing creep out from below the sofa. It paused, then dashed across the carpet to the furthest corner of the room. 

There was no furniture in that corner of the room. 

Carlos turned on the light. 

There was nothing there in that corner. Nothing but the oak door that opened to the brick wall. 

He was sure that his mother had shut the door, but now it was opened slightly. Carlos went over and peered into it. There was nothing there: just a red wall of bricks. 

So he closed the door, turned off the lights, and went back to bed. 

He dreamed of black shapes that slid from place to place, avoiding the light, until they were all under the moon. Little black shape, with red eyes and rows and rows of sharp, white teeth.

They started to sing: "Look around you. Look inside you. Go to sleep. Strex. Believe in a smiling god."

Their voices were high, and happy, and sweet, and they made Carlos uncomfortable. 

Then Carlos dreamed a few commercials, and after that he dreamed of nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've had the idea of a Coraline/WTNV crossover for a while. It seemed to fit really well for me. Strex is all about perfection, and they lure people over by promising them perfection. I mean, Kevin even has black eyes, just like the buttons that everyone wears in the other world. 
> 
> With the first chapter, it's a lot like the first chapter of Coraline. And by a lot like Coraline, I mean most of it is word for word like Coraline. But as we get into deeper into the story, it'll start heading off in a different direction, and this will probably have a different ending than Coraline, because it really is more of an AU, so I swear that I'm not just going to copy and paste the actually novel of Coraline. But since the first chapter was more introducing characters and settings, I didn't change it that much.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, it's a chapter one rewrite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me forever to get this up. I was have trouble writing it, and I redesigned the universe since I was going to be changing some stuff around. I'm really sorry to anyone who might have been waiting for this to come out, and if you were waiting, I hope it's good. The other chapters should be up faster.

Carlos found the door by accident a little bit after they moved into "the house."

It was "the house" because it wasn't his. Don't get him wrong, he thought the house was cool. He was excited about all the things he had to explore, and the house was okay, but it wasn't his house. It wasn't home, no matter what his parents said.

And after all, how could it be their house when it didn't belong to just them? It was a big house, and it was divided into four parts, and Carlos and his family only owned one part, so scientifically speaking, it was only 1/4 of a house. Hardly enough to be a home.

There were other people in the house. One of them was a little old lady named Josie. Carlos wasn't sure how he felt about her. She seemed friendly enough, and had invited him into her part of the flat, but Carlos' parents had said no.

"We have far too much unpacking to do." Said Dr. Santiago, with a slight smile on her face. 

Miss Josie had nodded her head and said, "Well, if Carmen ever wants to come over, then he's always welcome." 

"My name is Carlos." Carlos had murmured, and Miss Josie had nodded again, and turned to leave.

But just before she had gotten to the door she had stopped and exclaimed that she had forgotten something. "This is for Carmen." She said, holding out a little box. 

Carlos blinked. "It's Carlos." He said, as he held out his hand. "My name is Carlos, not Carmen."

Miss Josie put the box in his hand and said, "Erika told me you'd need this."

And with that, she was gone.

The other house owner wasn't as nice. Carlos didn't like him, and neither did his parents. He could tell by the set of their jaws as the man, who was clearly white despite his attempts to look like a Native American, went on and on about how the ancient Indian spirits had told him that Carlos was in danger, and how he needed to beware of the door and of the clocks.

Eventually his parents had had enough of it and excused themselves, talking about how,"We have so much work to get down." "Also jet lag." "Sorry, we're very tired." "We're not used to the time change." And, as soon as the man was out of earshot, "Wow, what a racist asshole." 

People and house aside though, this new place had one redeeming quality: Since both of his parents worked, Carlos had free run of the house while they were at work. Which meant he was free to go in the backyard, even though he was told it was dangerous.

The backyard was actually an arroyo, and so every morning once Dr. and Mrs. Santiago had left, Carlos would put on his lab coat and head out in the backyard and do "science."

It was all great fun. He'd study the plants, and he'd try and catch the lizards (for science) and then he'd sit under the small, twisted tree growing in the middle and draw in the sand. 

And that was how Carlos had spent the past two weeks- exploring the arroyo.

And then one day, after Carlos had gone outside, it had begun to rain. He'd thought nothing of it at first, although he did like seeing how the sand absorbed the water. But then the rain came down harder and harder, and then he remembered why he wasn't supposed to play in the arroyo. The arroyo was a rain runoff center, and during rainstorms it flooded.

Carlos began to struggle out of the arroyo, but soon the rain was falling so hard that Carlos couldn't even see his own hand in front of him. 

Luckily, at that moment, someone else seized his hand and pulled him up toward the exit. When they got the porch of the house, it turned out to be Miss Josie. 

"Don't you know better than to play in the arroyo during a storm, child?" She scolded him. "Why, if your mother hadn't called me who knows what could have happened?"

"My mom called you?" He asked, shivering. He was starting to get very cold. 

"Yes, and it's a good thing she did. Now go inside and warm up child, and let this be a lesson to you." Miss Josie nodded at him one more time, and then hobbled back to her door.

"Wait!" Carlos blurted out, and she turned around. "Ummm... Thank you, Miss Josie."

She smiled at him warmly. "You're welcome, Carmen." And she was gone before he had a chance to correct her.

He ducked back inside and, shivering, pulled his lab coat off (it was soaking) and went upstairs to get changed.

When he came downstairs, in his fluffy science pajamas and wrapped up in a blanket, he was still cold so he decided to make himself some hot chocolate.

The only problem was that since his own cup was still packed, the only mugs out were his parent's mugs, both of which he had been told several times to never use.

He only hesitated for a second before grabbing his mama's mug and mixing up some hot chocolate. If he washed it at put it back, his parents wouldn't need to know.

With all that handled, Carlos decided to go and wash his cloths, which were soaked and splattered with mud. Tucking them under one arm, with the other hand holding his hot chocolate, he walked over to the washing machine to toss his clothes in.

But while doing that, the mug slipped from his fingers and, to his horror, shattered into a million pieces on the floor.

"Darn it." He whispered to himself, watching the hot chocolate seep across the floor. "I'm dead."

First things first was, of course, damage control. He quickly mopped up the hot chocolate and, grabbing a broom, began to sweep up the glass.

There were boxes in the way, so Carlos had to shift them side from side to get the glass, and that was when he found the door.

He didn't realize it was a door until he pushed the last box, a tall box marked "grandfather clock" out of the way, but there it was. A tall oak door that looked really old and that Carlos was reasonably sure shouldn't be there.

It had a wide keyhole, and Carlos bent down to look through it, because it looked like light was shining through it and-

A door opened. Carlos stumbled back, but then realized it was the front door, which meant one of parents was home, which meant he was in a world of trouble.

The door was pushed further back in his mind as he was reminded of his situation with the broken mug, but as he made his way slowly to the front door, he did make a mental note to ask his parents about the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are very much appreciated.


End file.
